


Allow Yourself To Dream

by Life_is_a_beautiful_story



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels, Bookshop, Confessions, Crowley loves sunglasses, Cuddles, Demon qualities, Demons, Dreams, Establishing relationships, Fluff, Gentle Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scared Aziraphale, Set in Paris, Sleepy Crowley, Snake Eyes - Freeform, Snake Tongue, and wears leather apparently, lonely Aziraphale, no sex just fluff, snake tail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 16:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Life_is_a_beautiful_story/pseuds/Life_is_a_beautiful_story
Summary: It’s been about three weeks since the ‘supposed’ end of the world. Aziraphale can’t tell you how he’s spent the last week, because he cannot quite recall what he did with the time that passed him by.Though that is about to change.





	Allow Yourself To Dream

**Author's Note:**

> New to this fandom, pretty much binged the series in a day, wanted to contribute something- absolutely not an expert, but it’s appreciated that you read this in the first place. So Thanks haha.

The book shop was quiet.

It was another lethargic Thursday afternoon in Paris.

The city streets were quite different across the channel than the ones in London. It didn’t really matter what day of the week it was, or the time for that matter, the streets were dull. The dance of the merchant and the buyer was more of a half-arsed jig than a full blown waltz and it showed.

It wasn’t the sort of thing Aziraphale would usually notice, his nose buried far too deep between the paged parchment of some first addition, antique novel to spare the care.

But not today. It had been three weeks since the‘supposed’ end of the world, and an entire week since he last saw hide or hair of the demon.

Nothing. Not even a peep. Time just seemed to crawl by, the loss of his demonic companion wearing upon him. 

He didn’t eat. Which wasn’t normal for him.

He didn’t sleep- which was normal for him, but still rather preferred than this endless emptiness around him.

With the lack of street-bustle, the doorbell spent a week-or-so laid lame. And the book slapped across his lap was now collecting dust across the literary body of the opening chapter. The book’s plot and subject had long since been forgotten, as the angel’s mind was elsewhere, tumbling through some great beyond.

Yet something made him twitch awkwardly, bringing him back to the present moment. His bones creaked arthritically with the tilt of his head, his attention was miraculously drawn, by a rather different sound. 

Aziraphale stopped breathing for a second, and simply listened.

It was barely audible, in fact, the angel had to check and double check for several moments to even establish that there was, in fact, something tickling his senses.

‘What on Earth... is that sound?’ The angel thought perplexedly, sliding from his desk, seventeenth century edition now cradled beneath one arm. He stood and simply listened again. Initially it sounded almost airy, with a lisp to it. Something like a fan not quite catching the breeze enough to energetically spin.

**_Thud._ **

Came a sound from within his store, followed by a light dragging noise.

The angel slinked from the cozy corner of the shop’s main room, and wandered after the cluster of strange sounds.

The journey took him, around the corner, down a couple of steps into the preset level of the main floor, and back up again to the main side.

A cracked window maybe? But how does that explain the movement across the floorboards?

‘Oh no.’ Aziraphale gasped, hand resting over nonexistent heart as the sound came again, almost inaudibly, from the floor above. 

The angel twisted his unaccompanied hand within the creamed fabric of his suit jacket in anxiousness, arm firmly cradling his book. ‘Please... Not rats, please. Anything but rats.’

Turning promptly, the angel locked the front door and flipped the sign. There was no need to embarrass himself in front of any potential patrons, with his rather wrongful and brutal usage of a broom.

Schooling himself, Aziraphale ascended the antique stairs silently, each step weightless and inconsequential, like leaves settling upon a silky stream. The angel stopped at the top, listening again once more, finding the sound getting louder and repetitive in nature. 

The whole ordeal was starting to flay the angel’s nerves. Strange sounds, vermin and a potentially life-threatening tangle with angel management about the usage of unnecessary miracles **_AFTER_** having averted the apocalypse and destroying any attempt at following through with any previous orders or **_THE PLAN_**.

Grabbing his battered broom, from its cobwebbed spot in the landing corner, Aziraphale placed his ear to the door of his personal sitting room and listened.

There it was again!!

‘In there... definitely in there.’ Aziraphale assured himself determinedly, eyes now narrowed in affronted mirth at the audacity of the four legged creatures which would dare set afoot within his earth nest after his recent relocation.

‘HOW DARE YO-‘ Aziraphale began, the door swinging open with energy, broom held threateningly high.

The angel’s hand immediately slapped across his lips, in an attempt to smother the rest of his accusation into oblivion. His book was lost to gravity, landing with a **_thunk_** upon the laminate. And in his shock, Aziraphale’s precarious hold upon the broom-weapon slipped, sending the bristled wood careening down to the floor.

Blue eyes were now wide for a completely different reason entirely.

Peering quickly, and cursing the demon’s fondness for wearing blackout shades indoors, the angel waited for a snarky comment or wisecrack... Which never came. 

As it turned out, there were no rats. Or four legged creatures of any kind.Just one spindly legged demon, sprawled across his sofa, still- somehow-thankfully, fast asleep. 

‘Gracious.’ Aziraphale thought to himself, picking up the broom, and laying it against the wall. The angel cringed in horror as he crouched and tenderly picked up his abused book.

Frankly, Aziraphale didn’t know how Crowley slept through the racket he made. The demon was either a deaf, or out cold. 

Thinking about it, Aziraphale knew that Crowley did sleep through an entire century one time, the demon’s absence whittling his nerves down to near consequential-levels is not something easily forgotten.

Likewise, to sleep through a century, is to be able to descend far deeper than any conscious level as to not be disturbed. That- and the demon more than likely felt safe in his own den for the duration of that sleep.

Did that mean that.. Crowley was comfortable... felt safe here? With him? In his bookshop? 

Aziraphale tried to not let those thoughts warm his cheeks too much as he wandered into the room silently, eyes never leaving the prone demon, as he gently placed the seventeenth century original down on to the polished mahogany coffee table before turning and settling into the accompanying armchair.

From what Aziraphale could tell, Cowley had merely twitched during the whole ordeal, despite his shouting and clumsiness.

His not-so-uninvited guests’ hair was lightly sprawled across his forehead, the slightly rusted ends caressing the paled pallor of the demon’s skin. As usual, the dark-tinted sunglasses were perched rather precariously across the arched bridge of Crowley’s nose, as the demon’s head slowly lulled to one side, the right cheek smushing unabashedly into the leather upholstery.

The slight change in position allowed Paris’ afternoon glow to bounce across the lifted curve of Crowley’s left cheek, and the shadows to swoop into the hollows of Crowley’s jaw, consequently accentuating the slightly bobbing Adam’s apple beneath.

The demons’ mouth was slightly open, snake-like tongue slipping in and out of his mouth in tandem with the barely audible breaths, accompanied by a nearly inaudible whistle. The sounds the demon made was neither a solid huff, or a snore, more towards minimalistic hiss accompanied by a warm puff of air.

The hissed breaths continued to rattle down the demon’s throat and back through his laxly clenched jaw.

Completely and utterly undisturbed.

The sound that was once making Aziraphale anxious, was now not quite so worrisome. For it was the sound of contentment, safety and relaxation. It was the sound of life slowly unfurling from a terrible tandem of boredom into a bloom of potential.

The sound originating from a snake-formed demon, slumbering through a lethargic Thursday afternoon.

It was his dear one.

But that didn’t explain the thumping noise.

Getting up slowly, Aziraphale moved closer to the demon, wishing to find the source of the stillnagging noise. Glaring at the demon in concentration, Aziraphale determined that it wasn’t directly Crowley making the noise, but something beneath-

Aziraphale would like to say that he **_DID NOT_** squeal as he tumbled into the sleepy demons lap!

‘Oh goodness! I’m so sorry Crowley, my dear. I do apologise’ Aziraphale said fretfully, whilst gently pushing away from the poor demon’s firm chest, which he’d unceremoniously landed.

‘Evenin’ Angel.’ Crowley mumbled, long fingers coming to rest against the Aziraphale’s cheek, to ease the startled body. 

‘I didn’t mean-‘ Aziraphal began, before Crowley placed one delicate finger over the angel’s teeth-worried lips.

‘Shhh, s’alright.’ Crowley soothed, his voice soft and deep with his tiredness. His soothing timbre accompanied by his other hand, now gently petting his companion’s taut spine.

‘I...’ the demon yawned unbothered by the angel’s flustered position. ‘Was j’st resting m’eyes. When I caught an angel watching over me, but looking very lonely’. Crowley whispered softly, eyes slitted sleepily and forked tongue flickering seductively ‘Thought, he could do with some company.’

Aziraphale went a funny shade of pink at the demon’s words. Hands awkwardly curling into the leather coverings adorning Crowley’s firm torso. A sudden heat started sweltering up and into his groin, from his own misplaced thigh encompassed between the now clinging demon’s

He looked absolutely ridiculous right now.

But it didn’t quite matter.

Because Crowley was grinning at him, shades now slipping down the bridge of his nose and allowing the slitted amber to twinkle in amusement.

‘I-I-I fell.’ Aziraphale stuttered un explanation, an awkward grin sitting upon his face.

‘I knew you would fall for me eventually.’ Crowley chuckled, lightly moving his snaked tail for emphasis, ‘I just had to give you a little... push.’

Aziraphale flushed a weird shade of beetroot before returning Crowley’s amused stare. ‘That’s what that noise was.’ The angel summarised, ‘Your tail was dragging over the floor!’

‘Did I disturb you?’ Crowley asked, sinking back into the sofa cushions, a small frown painting his lip.

‘N-no.’ Aziraphale replied, though he knew the demon saw straight through him, with the small twitch of his lip as his indicator. ‘Though, I bet I disturbed you.... with that racket.’

Crowley chuckled, ‘Stealth was never really your forte.’ 

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Aziraphale agreed sheepishly, ‘You did give me quite the surprise you know? Whilst you are always welcome here, with me- I mean at my home- yes, ahem. Whilst you are always welcome here, I wasn’t expecting you... I er- assumed you’d be enjoying your solitude, your new found freedom from, you know, management.’

‘Angel...’ Crowley chuckled indulgently, ‘We’re free.’

Aziraphale tilted his head slightly, ‘Yes... That’s my point dear. You have the whole world at your finger-tips, you could go anywhere now.’

‘Aziraphale.’ Crowley smiled softly, hand coming to cradle the angel’s blooming cheek, ‘Love, there is no place I would rather be, than here, with you, right now.’ 

Aziraphale released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, nervous hands no longer tangling with Crowley’s garments, and neither dancing around each other clumsily.

‘Oh Crowley.’ Aziraphale whispered, a nervous smile cupping his cheeks. ‘I am glad to have you too.’

‘I know.’ Crowley said gently, ‘But from how stiff and dusty you are, is it too far to suppose this is the first time you’ve moved from your armchair in about a week? And still fixated upon the same book since the last time I saw you? Were you even turning the pages angel?’

‘The time....’ Aziraphale said softly, accompanied with a sad sound of his own, ‘Not being together... It’s too painful to fathom... I couldn’t focus on the literature, because my mind started to tumble. I mean, where were you? You were gone for so long.’

‘Just settling my affairs, relocating.’ Crowley said, whilst gently encouraging Aziraphale down, to lay entangled with him on the sofa. The Angel’s ear now resting easily upon his chest, and his slightly pinked nose tucked into the warmth radiating from the crook of the demon’s neck. One hand coming to gently comb through the angel’s soft hair, and the other encompassing his waist, providing full body comfort to his companion.

Aziraphale released a deflated sigh, his emotions now bubbling to the surface. ‘I thought... I thought... That I wouldn’t see you again.’

Crowley made a small noise in his throat, a soft, wounded sound.

‘You thought that... Because management was no longer on my back, and because I no longer had a job... That I would no longer entertain your presence?’ Crowley asked duly. ‘You mean more to me, than a counter-miracle.’

Aziraphale sniffled wetly, blue eyes glassy and hands slightly trembling around Crowley’s form.. ‘I didn’t want to assume you wanted more from me. I didn’t want to believe you wanted to spend time with me beyond the obligations of our truce... Because I didn’t want to give myself false hope, I didn’t want to allow a fool to dream.’

‘I want more from you.’ Crowley said clearly, ‘In fact, probably too much...’

Aziraphale made a questioning sound in his throat, peering up at the demon as best he could from his position.

‘I have an infinite amount of time, yet all I’ve ever wanted, since the moment I laid eyes on you in the garden, was to spend all my time with you.’ Crowley explained, ‘Six thousand years later, look where you are- right here.’ He said, giving the angel’s waist a small squeeze for emphasis, ‘With no management watching, no work obligations separating us, no plans or rules to abide by- there’s nothing to keep us apart.’

The demon waited for the small speech to sink in for the angel, whose hands were gradually settling confidently upon and around his lithe waist.

‘Allow yourself to dream sweetheart.’ Crowley murmured softly, placing a kiss upon the angel’s forehead, ‘Because, whether it takes six thousand years and three weeks after the ‘supposed’ end of the world- your dreams, whether you’re a demon, angel, human or deity... May just come true.’

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a comment telling me what you think, or a prompt or something! Thank you!


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